Make Love. Not War. Bring Flowers.

Sometimes, life is confusing. Sometimes it makes perfect sense. Doors close, windows open. I need to clean them, whatever. DON’T JUDGE. There are children in Paris that won’t eat their goûter because they’re terrified right now. Which is sad because chocolate and bread can solve the world’s problems if we let them. Let’s break bread together. Drink wine together. Understand that we are all the same.

Here is what we need. Sun on our shoulders. Swaying branches that bend yet don’t break. Here’s to STRENGTH. And cheese. Always cheese.

Bisous, loves. xxx

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Patti Loluste said...

I’ve missed you, Madeline. I hope you’re as strong as the people of Paris are right now. I’m sure you are.

Joy! You are back-an early Christmas gift to me! “Firecracker” could not be a more perfect color for you. I was in Beijing, one Lunar New Yea, and they set off rows and rows of firecrackers, woven into a kind of exploding chainmail. They set them all off at midnight and the following morning there were billows of pink clouds in the gutters…the exploded red firecrackers, turned into pink confetti. It was the only color in the street. Sublime. Joyeux Noel to you and your family, Madeline.

Guys. It's grown-up Madeline, and where have you been all my life? I have a nose ring and live in a château now. I take my flower arranging sessions very seriously. And Pepito? Not a bad hat in bed. At all. We have visitors from two to midnight. In two straight lines, we break our bread and drink our wine and go to bed and have the best night ever, and COME VISIT.